


You Have To Stop Doing Things That Make Me Want To Kiss You

by tutty172



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Bad Cooking, First Kiss, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Panic Attacks, Panic Attacks in Detail, Pining, Wishing for death, might as well be a DEH fic with the amount of pine, so much pining, theres not much of that though, this was meant to be fluffy and short, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-04 23:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11565177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tutty172/pseuds/tutty172
Summary: Michael accidentally lets it slip that he's been pining after Jeremy. Things ensue.





	You Have To Stop Doing Things That Make Me Want To Kiss You

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Just to let you know, there is a panic attack in detail in here. It starts at the first horizontal line and ends on the second one. The third is just a small time skip! Also: feel free to correct me on anything I might have gotten wrong, I've never had a panic attack myself, so the panic attack in here is based on other fanfictions and research on the Internet. Anyways, enjoy these pining idiots!
> 
> Oh, and also this was based off a writing prompt by catherineimagineseverything on Tumblr, on a writing prompt list. I am using prompts 20 (“you have to stop doing that”  
>  “doing what”  
>  “saying things that make me want to kiss you”) and 19 (“the problem is that if i kissed you, i wouldn't be able to stop”) Also, veedotharst helped me with this! Anyways, enjoy!

It was supposed to be a normal day in summer for Michael Mell. He was just supposed to just go over to Jeremy’s house, as always, suppress his feelings for Jeremy, as always, and play video games with Jeremy, as always, all while pining so fucking much for Jeremy, as always. 

Even since the SQUIP incident, albeit a little cautious at first, the duo had gotten as closer than ever, that now they were practically inseparable, which of course led to Michael having _even more_ feelings for Jeremy, which Michael had thought was impossible, but hey, you learn something new every day. 

And so now, Michael’s average day included lots of activities with Jeremy Heere, Michael’s best friend, though almost every part of Michael wished he was more. Every part of Michael just wanted to hug Jeremy in his sleep. Every part of Michael just wanted to wake up seeing that wonderful face that he had known for twelve years. Every part of Michael wanted to just kiss Jeremy on the nose while playing Apocalypse of the Damned, and maybe make out if they had a game over. Every part of Michael wanted to be able to call Jeremy his boyfriend. Every part of Michael just wanted. . . Jeremy. 

But, every part of Michael also knew that Jeremiah Heere did not exhibit feelings like that for Michael in any way, even if Jeremy was bisexual.

And so Michael pined for Jeremy quietly, stealing glances at him when he knew he had those zombies down in whatever video game they were playing, pretending in his mind that they were on dates when they went to some random place to eat, smiling when Jeremy left his clothes at Michael’s house, fully enjoying Jeremy’s genuine laugh when he made a stupid joke, staying up at night in his room, just thinking about the boy. 

Oh boy, was Michael in love with this kid.

And so when Michael was just casually crossing the street to get to Jeremy’s house (their houses’ proximities made it basically impossible for them _not_ to sleep over at each other’s home every other night), he didn’t expect anything out of the ordinary to happen. 

And oh, boy did it. 

Michael just opened the door with the key he was given a long time ago, in like middle school, when Jeremy finally got his key to the house, and stepped in, yelling through the house, “Honey I’m home~!” It was a joke they had to just yell that when they got into each other’s houses since they basically lived at each other's houses. 

“Hey Michael,” Jeremy said, not looking away from the television, which was currently displaying Mario Kart- Jeremy was in first place. 

Michael grinned, forming a plan to get Jeremy to lose. He had to act fast-Jeremy was almost at the finish line, so Michael quickly ran from the door, not bothering to close it, and tackled Jeremy, forcing him to let go of the controller and lose his place, ending up in 8th. 

“Aw man, what was that for?” he asked once Michael let go of him, putting his hand on his chest. 

“To make you lose so you could pay attention to me, duh,” Michael counteracted, draping his arm over Jeremy like a lovesick puppy, which wasn’t much of an act. 

Jeremy laughed and pushed Michael off of him, handing him another controller and an extra soda from the mini-fridge in the living room.

“Thanks, Jer,” Michael said, opening up the Coke bottle and taking a few gulps.

“Well since you wanted my undivided attention,” Jeremy began, pretending to swoon. “let’s have a round of Mario Kart, loser pays for chili fries at the mall!"

Michael smiled, knowing the shared love for chili fries. “You’re on,” he said with a devilish smile on his face, and took the controller, starting a new game with no CPUs.

It was an intense game, with both boys trying to distract the other in order to keep them from winning. In the end, Jeremy won, having made Michael distracted at the very end by playfully winking and licking his lips when he saw Michael look at him. 

“Oh come on! I call cheats!” Michael exclaimed, with an exasperated look on his face. Jeremy did _not_ just do that. He did not just use Michael’s closeted crush on his best friend to his advantage. Of course, Jeremy wouldn't know that Michael had been in love with him for around four years now, but that’s beside the point. 

“How?” Jeremy exclaimed, laughing and turning his head to look at the trying-not-to-be-but-probably-failing-horribly blushing mess that was Michael. “You were making weird faces too!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t turn into Playboy!”

“Playboy?” By this time, Jeremy was cracking up, and Michael was too, thinking that the laughter might explain why his entire face was red. 

“Oh shut up, I’ll get you your oh-so precious chili fries,” Michael said jokingly, standing up from the bean bag he was on.

“Wait no~” Jeremy whined, relaxing his head so it fell backward and sticking his hand out like he was reaching for Michael. “Not right now, let’s wait a bit.”

How could Michael say no to that face?

“Ugh, fine,” he groaned, rolling his eyes and plopping his body back on the bean bag, almost falling back due to the lack of backrest that a bean bag provides the user with.

Jeremy snorted, seeing Michael almost fall. “Nice one.”

At this, Michael simply pushed Jeremy back on the bean bag so that he fell onto the floor. 

“Hey, that’s not very nice!” Jeremy said, imitating a five-year old, crossing his arms and having a really cute pout on his lips and- _oh god Michael’s falling in love again._

_'You really need to stop doing that.’_ Michael thought about seeing the sight below him. 

“Doing what?” Jeremy asked.

The first thought that rippled through Michael’s head was very impulsive but _very_ true. 

_'Doing things that make me want to kiss you.'_

A moment later, Michael realized that he said both of those out loud. His eyes widened, and his body filled with panic as he quickly rose from the bean bag and ran out the door, which somehow had closed since Michael came, saying “I’m sorry,” over and over, trying not to let tears fall from his eyes.

* * *

Oh god, did Michael really just do that? He was such a screw-up, he can’t even keep his own mouth shut! Great, now Jeremy’s going to hate him and he fucked up the best friendship he ever had and Jeremy’s going to leave him alone voluntarily and he’ll die wanting something that’ll never happen because he’s just that much of a fuck-up and he deserves to die alone because fuck-ups don’t deserve second chances and Michael just doesn’t deserve anything.

While trapped in his thoughts, Michael somehow found himself inside of his own house, on the floor of his bathroom. He fell down in pure dizziness, and just felt as if the walls were closing in on him. He shut his eyes tight and hugged his knees, trying his hardest to breathe but he just couldn't. His throat tightened up, and oh god he needed to get up, he needed to get out of here. His heart pounded in his chest, and he tried to open his eyes, but he couldn’t see anything-it was like he didn’t have his glasses. Did he even have his glasses? Michael thought he heard something in the doorway, but everything was fuzzy, everything was blurry he needed to just get out the walls were closing in on him somebody _HELP._

He was paralyzed he couldn’t move but he needed to escape but he couldn’t feel anything except the extreme pounding of his heart and _why can’t he move._ He suddenly felt nauseous, like everything that he had ever eaten was in a war in his stomach, and he just emptied the contents of it and was now just dry heaving but it didn’t feel any better and oh god this is his death isn’t it, he’s gonna die and he deserves it and he’s such a fuck-up and _why can’t he breathe._

Then, things start to get a little clearer. He feels a little less nauseous, but oh god he still can’t breathe and-

He can hear a voice. He tries desperately to focus on the voice, to do anything to escape from this hell. 

He can’t make out the words, but he can barely make out the person that the voice belongs to. 

Michael opened his eyes, everything is still blurry, but he thinks he can make out the outline of a person. 

He thinks he can hear a word. 

“Michael. Michael, just breathe. Breathe with me.” He could hear the words but still couldn’t tell who was saying them. Still, he tried to follow along and breathe even though his throat was closed up.

“Inhale with me come on Mikey,” he heard the voice say, though he still couldn’t see it, or figure out who it belonged to. He tried his best to take a deep breath through his nose.

“Good, good. Now hold your breath.” Michael did, not letting any more air in or letting any air out. 

“Now breathe out. Exhale.” Michael let the breath go out through his mouth, suddenly feeling a bit more relaxed. He didn’t feel nauseous anymore, and he obeyed the voice. It calmed him, made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. A nice fuzzy. 

The voice made Michael breathe like that a couple more times, and Michael decided that he liked the voice. It was soothing. 

The blurry figure that the voice belonged to picked something up and put it on his face. 

Michael blinked. Woah, he could see a lot better and _was that Jeremy?_

Panic rose again in Michael because oh god Jeremy was here Michael thought Jeremy hated him why wouldn’t he; Michael’s just a fuck-up who deserves to die alone-

* * *

Michael’s thoughts were thankfully interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey hey hey,” Jeremy said, in the same soft voice that grounded Michael not too long ago. 

Michael looked up at the pale face in front of him, the same face he had fallen in love with 4 years ago. He stared into Jeremy’s gray eyes, Michael could stare at those eyes all day but, based on the events that had just happened, he couldn’t meet them for long. 

He looked past his own right shoulder, at the cracked white tile in the bathroom floor. Anywhere but right in front of him. 

“You don’t. . . you don’t hate me?” he asked, in disbelief.

“No, why would I?” Jeremy replied. “You’re an amazing person, Michael. How could anyone hate you?”

“Because I’m a massive fuck-up,” Michael mumbled, tears spilling from his eyes to join the other ones he didn’t even know spilled.

“Hey,” Jeremy started, reaching out his hand to gently grab Michael’s face and turn it towards him, forcing Michael to look at the face right in front of him.

“Don’t say that about yourself. You are the opposite of a fuck-up Michael. You are the most caring person I know, who’s been with me through thick and thin. You were always there when I needed you, and you’re probably the best person to ever exist,” he continued.

“You left me for a reason!” Michael exclaimed, burying his head in his knees.

Jeremy rushed from in front of Michael to next of him and silently hugged him for a moment before he spoke up. 

“That was because I’m the fuck-up. I didn’t see the wonderful person in front of me, figuratively and literally,” he joked, a feeble attempt to lighten the mood. 

Michael stayed silent, not trusting his vocal chords to do anything. 

Jeremy sighed and started to pick up Michael off of the tiled bathroom floor. “How about we watch a weird movie and eat some junk food. That sound good?” he asked, knowing that brought up Michael’s mood after a bad panic attack. 

Michael nodded. That sounded good right now. Hopefully, he could distract himself from the events before he rushed home. 

“Come on. Princess Bride?” Jeremy asked, getting Michael to his feet and starting to help him walk. 

Michael smiled. The Princess Bride was his guilty pleasure. He was a sucker for the happy ending. 

They made it to the couch in Michael’s living room, and Michael just flopped down on it, exhausted in every sense of the word. Jeremy put on the movie and went on to the couch and Michael, in his delirious state, just snuggled up against Jeremy, taking in the familiar warmth of his friend. 

It had barely gotten to Westley leaving the town before he fell asleep next to Jeremy. Before he did, without thinking, he squeezed Jeremy tight and mumbled: “Never leave me again.”

He thought he heard Jeremy whisper, “As you wish” right before he fell asleep, but he thought it was just his imagination.

* * *

When Michael woke up, he was in his bed. Huh, he remembered falling asleep on the couch. . . cuddled up against Jeremy.

Once he realized that, Michael’s heart soared. He’s done that before, lot’s of times; he's a cuddler when he sleeps, and they fall asleep next to each other all the time when they sleepover and they’re too lazy to get the air mattress. 

But if Michael said that he didn’t enjoy feeling the warmth that radiated from Jeremy’s cuddles gave him, Horton would hear a bitch-ass liar. 

And plus, Jeremy’s cuddles were amazing. Michael would usually curl up into a fetus position and bury his head in Jeremy’s chest, and put his arm around it as well, and Jeremy would just gently drape his arm around Michael’s body, his arm being so long that it extended past Michael’s body, and hand fell limp with nothing to support it, and his legs pressed up against Michael’s and everything was perfect.

Michael could go on all day about Jeremy’s cuddles.

But no homo though, bro.

Oh, who was Michael fooling, all the homo, bro!

Anyways, Michael was confused, and part of him a little disappointed. Why wasn’t he on the couch, and where did Jeremy go?

Oh great, Jeremy probably hated Michael now. Who wouldn’t at this point? Michael just blurted out that he wanted to kiss Jeremy, left, had a panic attack that Jeremy had to calm him down from, and fell asleep cuddling him! God, Michael was such a fuck-up. 

He got out of bed, a more than a part of him wishing he were dead. He slowly made his way to the kitchen, still half asleep and stumbling. At the sight he saw in the kitchen, Michael thought he was dreaming. 

Jeremy was cooking. 

Jeremy Heere, who never fails to either burn something or undercook something, sometimes both, was cooking. 

Jeremiah Heere, who once started to bake a cake when later caught on fire, was cooking. 

“You cook?” Michael asked, knowing fully well that he did _not_ cook. 

“Shh, I want to concentrate on getting these eggs decent,” Jeremy replied, not looking up from the food on the stove. 

Michael laughed and sat down on one of the chairs on the dining room table. “Just don’t burn the house down.”

A few minutes later, Michael saw Jeremy plop a paper plate with black eggs on it, along with a fork. “Weren’t you looking at these the entire time?”

“I was waiting until the side I was watching was completely cooked,” Jeremy said sheepishly, and very cutely might Michael add. 

“You know nothing about the culinary arts,” Michael said, taking a bite out of the eggs and almost gagging because _Jesus_ those were charred.

“So,” Jeremy spoke up before taking both his and Michael’s almost-full plates and dumping them in the trash. “We need to talk.”

Michael’s eyes widened at that choice of words. Those words meant nothing but badness. 

“That was a bad choice of words,” Jeremy said, sitting back down. “It’s just, what did you mean yesterday before you ran out?”

Michael took a deep breath. Oh god.

“Don’t panic,” Jeremy said, placing his hand on Michael’s, which effectively distinguished the wave of panic that overtook Michael. 

Michael took another breath, shaky this time. There was no choice except, to tell the truth now. 

“I meant exactly what I said,” Michael admitted, bowing his head in an attempt to look anywhere but Jeremy’s face. 

“The thing about that is…” Jeremy took a pause, which left Michael’s thoughts to rush into the front of his brain-mostly negative. 

Jeremy probably hated Michael now. He hated Michael and wanted to cook breakfast because he wanted to do something nice before walking out of Michael’s house and never talking to him again. Michael was going to lose the best friendship he’s ever had with anyone. Jeremy’s going to leave Michael forever, fully willingly.

“I feel the same way,” he heard. Michael’s head snapped up. Were his ears deceiving him?

“What?”

“I feel the same way,” Jeremy repeated, with more confidence. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” Jeremy said with a laugh. “After the whole incident with SQUIP, I realized I really didn’t like Christine that way. But, I thought about well. . . everything for a long time. That’s when I realized that I never really felt for Christine in that way, I just admired her and wanted to be her friend. But the thoughts I pretended to have about her, wanting to kiss her and be mushy with her and shit, I realized I had for you.”

Michael felt what was probably the widest grin he’s ever had grow on his face. 

Jeremy liked him back. 

Jeremy, his crush for 4 years now, liked him back.

Jeremy Heere liked him.

_JEREMIAH HEERE LIKED MICHAEL MELL! ___

__“Can I kiss you?” Jeremy asked, his face hopeful and red._ _

__“Problem is, if I kissed you, I don’t know if I’d be able to stop,” Michael answered, a smirk now on his face._ _

__“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me,” Jeremy said, leaning in to kiss Michael._ _

__And if Michael said, even when he was on his deathbed, that it wasn’t the best god damn kiss he’d ever have in his lifetime, Horton would hear a bitch-ass liar._ _


End file.
